The Phantom and The Salamander
by Ganondorf-Lover
Summary: Erik Destler goes to London to keep his head down for a bit, but ends up getting kidnapped, robbed, and left almost naked on the streets! This is an Erik/OC, using any book/movie from POTO I happen to want . M for future chapters, just to be safe Summary: Bad... Story: Good... :D
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **

**I cannot make ANY promises that chapters will be uploaded daily, weekly, or even monthly. I am absolutely TERRIBLE at maintaining focus on a story. HOWEVER, I will try my hardest to update this story AT LEAST once or more a month. Please be patient with me, I have 2 other Fanfics I'm working on (not uploaded yet), and a novel as well. **

**If I owned the Phantom of the Opera, I would have him shirtless and serving me grapes and cheese on a decorative platter. Unfortunately, I have to get myself my own cheese and grapes... :( I own nothing... *except a pair of rainbow sock* ****oh, I also own all OC chars, (Salamdria, and anyone else I later on add)**

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-1-

"Get away from me!" The same annoying screeched pierced his ears once more as the infamous Phantom of the Opera stalked down the side streets of London with a medium sized bag slung over his shoulder, anxiously searching out a nook, a cranny, anyplace that he could intrude upon for the night. The irritating cry of a scared woman echoed through the alley he was walking swiftly through, and he heard the sounds of people running behind him. He ducked into a doorway that was nearby, and gazed out with his liquid golden eyes at the scene that taking place where he had once stood.

A group of four young men, their hats pulled down to hide their faces, seemed intent on forcing themselves upon a young woman who had ran down the same alleyway he had in a desperate attempt to escape them. She was clothed in what appeared to be a tattered brown gown, a cloak wrapped around her shoulders with the hood up, hiding her face from his view. He watched as they advanced towards her, slowly forming a ring to trap her in. She saw him hiding in the doorway, and cried out for him to save her. Her cries fell on deaf ears, however, and the Phantom slid out of his hiding place to continue down the street when he heard the sharp sound of a fist hitting flesh, a sound he knew oh so well himself.

He was never one to help another who was in trouble, and he shocked himself when he put down his sack of things he had saved from his old home, and approached the group of men. He stood in front of the cowering woman who had fallen to the ground and was sobbing, it sounded like.

"I shall warn you once, gentlemen, to leave the lady alone, or blood shall be spilled." The Phantom had his lasso in his bag, and had not thought to carry a knife with him when traveling, so he hoped he could frighten the men away before he would have need of his fists, as he found hand-to-hand combat so messy and somewhat degrading. The men around him smiled, and settled themselves into a familiar starter stance for a boxer, and he realized that there was no frightening these men away. He did open his mouth to warn them one more time, but was silenced by a slender hand placing a bitter smelling rag over both his mouth and nose. Before realizing what had happened, the once renowned Phantom of the Opera collapsed in an unconscious heap.

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**Okay, that was Ch. 1. Sorry it was so short, I have classes starting back up in a few weeks so I'm trying to get a decent amount of sleep so I can wake up early for said classes. Think of that as a prologue, and more shall be uploaded today or tomorrow. Thank you for reading!**

**Everyone who Reviews gets a unicorn, a plate of bacon, and 17 cookies :D **


	2. Look, a Floating Title!

**A/N**

**Ch. 2 of this story is published :D *I was going to write the title, but... ITS SO LONG! DX* I hope you are all as pleased with me as I am, I published Ch. 1 yesterday at 12:10 a.m., and this ch. at 1:27 a.m. :D So 2 chapter, 2 days *so proud* **

**I thank my dearest, most amazing-est friend EVER for reading these chapters over and for being so annoyingly strict *and correct*... Thank you, Lionwulf!**

**I also award several plates of bacon, cookies, and a unicorn to Andimpink, who reviewed :3 Thank you!**

**This Chapter is longer than the 1st, though not the longest chapter I will be writing... Hopefully, 5-8 page chapters in the future *yippi*, I'm just tired XD **

**If I owned POTO, I would have Raoul fall in love with Meg Giry, and Christine be alone forever... but, I don't own anything, *except a cute kitten, named Dr. Sheldon Cooper * so... I cannot be sued for anything I write :D ha!**

-2-

Erik groaned and cracked open his eyes, shutting them immediately as the bright light seared his retinas. Squinting, he cracked open his golden eyes and sat up carefully so he could survey the room he was in. He remembered the events that had happened before he had been drugged, and could feel an ache in the back of his head were he was certain he had been dropped when transported to wherever he was. His eyes felt better adjusted to the bright light of the room, and he opened them fully to look around.

He was in a room with dark blue plaster walls, the color of a midnight sky over the countryside. The only furnishings in the room was an extremely bright light dangling from the ceiling, an old wooden chair, and an end table placed at the foot of the bed he was sitting on. It was a pitiful excuse for a bed, with a thin worn mattress and a single, almost-thread bare red blanket, complete with a lumpy grey pillow.

He scowled, berating himself of how he had succumbed so easily to his foes, as he walked about the room. His bag and cloak were gone, leaving him in his black boots, his fine black pants, and his simple white shirt. His mask was on his face still, he could tell by the reassuring weight of it against the damaged flesh on his face, and was slightly comforted that the thieves had not taken that as well. The room was not to large, but it seemed cramped and claustrophobic to him, only 23 steps to the door, and then 22 steps from wall to wall. What he wouldn't give for a glass of water, he thought as he licked his dry lips. Whatever he had been drugged with left his mouth feeling dry, and stuffed with cotton.

Almost as soon as he finished his thought a door opened and a tall, dark haired woman walked in with a man following behind her, carrying a tray of food and drink. "I am glad you finally woke up, you worried us by sleeping longer than normal…" She said as she propped herself up against the plaster wall by the door. The man scurried to the end table and placed the meager excuse for a meal on it, and quickly exited the room. "I imagine you are hungry and thirsty, am I correct?"

Erik nodded in silence trying to control both his anger, and the rumbling in his empty stomach. The last time he had eaten had been three days ago, a half gnawed bread rind out of the trash. He scowled once more as he eyed the woman's build. She was tall but thin, and he decided that he could easily over power her and escape, though he was unsure how many thieves were in the building, and how many stood between him and the exit.

"Please Monsieur, do not hesitate to eat, I can assure you it is not poisoned… And though it may look revolting, the young lady who works in the kitchen is quite the amazing cook." The woman paused an looked thoughtful for a moment, "I do believe you have already met her." She grinned a Cheshire cat grin, and when she spoke again, it seemed almost mockingly. "You so valiantly attempted to rescue her, did you not? Unfortunately it seems that it was _you_ who needed rescuing."

For a few brief moments, the famed Phantom was shocked silent by two things, the first being the nationality of the woman before him, never would he have considered her to be French though she spoke it as though it was her first language. The second, and much more importantly, was that he had been scammed. It had all been a set-up, and he granted them the respect of having thought up such an elaborate scheme, though he had been tricked. The woman motioned towards the plate of food, as she casually seated herself at the wooden chair placed near the door. She rested the long thin rapière she carried in on hand, absentmindedly fiddling with the decorative golden tassel at the end of the handle.

She seemed incredible full of herself, as though she had an army of fine soldiers in the room with her, though it was just the two of them. For a brief moment, Erik contemplated between lunging forward to tackle the cocky chit in from of him, take the keys that dangled from a small loop on her black belt and escape, or eat the food provided, gain back his strength (unless they planned to kill him, though he found it unlikely), and then attack with his full potent ional at a later time. He wisely decided on the latter option, and grabbed the tray off the end table and placed it across his lap, with such a smooth movement that the water in the small wooden mug he was given scarcely sloshed.

"I was tricked." Erik said as he set down the mug after taking a mouth-cleansing drink of water. Almost immediately, the nasty aftertaste and the cottony feel in his mouth vanished.

"Correct."

Erik did not respond, and neither did she. He watched as her eyes took in his appearance, and his ivory mask that capped the deformity beneath. At the same time, he watched her, attempting to gain some idea as to a more prominent weakness, other than her light weight. Erik did not like starting a fight and being caught off guard or surprised.

She was dressed simply, an indigo blue top that reminded him somewhat of the shirts the gypsy dancers had worn when he had been forced to stay with them, leaving her shoulders bare and had a longer sleeve than the type they had worn had, the loose fabric flowing down to her wrists before stopping. She wore no design on the top, though Erik could see two small golden designs peeking above the dark blue of the top, which stopped just at the gentle swell of her breasts. Tattoos were still somewhat new, and incredibly expensive to obtain, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was just the product of an incredibly skilled hand and a set of theatre makeup, or if it was real, and what was the rest of the design, that vanished beneath the top and poked out once more, two golden swirls just above her navel.

When she had first entered, he had assumed she was wearing a dress as women did, though when she had walked towards the chair he could tell that it was just an illusion created by the ankle length, flared black pants. He would have assumed they were not hers, as they had little shape from her upper thigh down, but decided they were hers as she walked confidently. This woman seemed to cocky to wear hand-me-downs or second hand clothes, leaving him to assume that they were custom tailored. A belt with a sheath hung on her waist, attached as well was a pocket for what appeared to be a pistol, and he did not doubt that she was an excellent shot. Also On the belt was a small loop with several keys on it, which dangled dangerously close to her sheath.

She had a decent enough face, not to thin lips, nor to plump, waist length black hair pulled back in a ponytail, delicate nose, and he would have considered her pretty if it wasn't for the somewhat mischievous, knowing grin that was placed upon her lips. However, it was her eyes that drew his attention immediately, large and dark green seemingly normal in color, though her pupils were vertical slits, very similar to a cat's eyes, though wider. He assumed he had been staring long after what would have been deemed appropriate, as she spoke up suddenly, staring him straight in his eyes.

"Coloboma."

"Excuse me?" She didn't break the stare, and neither did he.

"Cat's eyes is called Coloboma… More commonly known as the Diable's Eyes." She grinned in what he assumed was supposed to be a mocking smile, but turned out in a twisted grimace. "Almost gotten me killed twice in the past three years."

Erik placed the now-empty tray back onto the end table and chuckled darkly. It was clear that she had used her eyes to intimidate other people that her and the group of ruffians had kidnapped and robbed, and he almost found it humorous that she thought a little eye deformity would be so traumatizing. "I've seen worse."

She glared at him, the grimace gone from her place and replaced by a cold line. She stood up and unsheathed her thin sword, pointing it towards the floor. "That's ivory, isn't it?" She gestured with her head towards his mask, and he nodded, unsure of where the conversation was heading. She lifted her sword and pointed it at his chest, maintaining a few feet of distance between them. "I'll be needing that. Ivory sells good on the market, you know."

"What?"

"I am taking the mask, Monsieur." There was obvious anger in her eyes, and her once-perfect English blended into a combination of both English and French, a French accent slowly appearing as she continued to speak. "Excellemment***** carved ivory sells for beau-coup*****, surely you, having one vous-même***** knows how many meals it can provide."

"No." He did not hesitate in his answer. He would never part with his mask, never face the world with a naked, scarred face and once more be tormented by the screams of horror. He would never do it again, the betrayal of Christine unmasking him was still to fresh, the sight of her repulsed face to raw.

"I have never been one to not offer a man a fair chance, Monsieur." The anger was still lingered in her eyes, but it was being slowly replaced by something else. A flicker of a smile rose to her lips and then vanished just as fast, and the Phantom realized that she was amused. "Let us make a wager…"

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**(*) All French will be explained at the end of each chapter for those who are not french, and do not speak french. *I do not speak French, and I beg forgiveness from all French speaking/reading readers who find mistake in my translations... If you tell me in the comments, I will go back and correct it***

**Monsieur- Sir**

**Excellemment- Excellently **

**Beau-coup- Much, a lot**

**Vous-même- Yourself**

**Rapière- Rapier**

**More updates coming soon!**

**I'm currently doing research for Ch. 3, and I beg forgiveness if I take a while, I'm thinking of some kick-ass moves for both Erik and the Woman... Who is purposely not named in this Chapter, due to wanting to have a longer, continuous chapter 3 and 4. **

**This Chapter's reviewers shall be given... uhmm... **

**A Muffin Store, that sells Muffins and cupcakes *though cupcakes are basically very vain muffins***

**G-L**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, my faithful reviewers! It is I, G-L. I am here to formally apologize for my lack of updating. I will be posting this "letter" to every story I am working on, in hopes that everyone who reads my stories will read it and understand that I am a HORRIBLE updater! D: **

**I have had a terrible case of writer's block lately. However, I was angrily yelled at my several friends who were disappointed that I was not updating regularly. After much abuse, I realized that this is true! I am a horrible updater! I'm surprised I even have any fans :P**

**I will be finishing all of my Fanfics, and then I will be taking an extended break to finish my novel(s?) before returning to more fanfiction. Here is the following order of the updating order for my stories:**

**All Legend of Zelda Stories will be finished First**

**Phantom of the Opera will be next **

**. . . I don't think I have any after that... (oops) **

**Thank you for taking your time to read this!**

**I will finish my stories very soon! I promise it!**

**Ganondorf Finds Love (gosh, I hate that title... what was I thinking?!) Will more than likely be finished very soon, after that, it will be Death of Ganondorf (. . .blah... what titles...) and so on and so forth XD**

**Goodbye for now! **

**G-L**


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